The Invictus - Chapter XX
Chapter Twenty
High Wire moved in at what Prowl at the time dubbed the perfect pace-she closed the gap between their faceplates and brushed her lip against his. The touch sent electricity of the best kind jolting through his sensory relays; he felt his optics widen before shuttering offline and his hand resting on hers. The writing stylus in his other hand slipped out of his grip as easily as if it were greased.
High Wire laid her hand on the back of his helm, lightly brushing her tapered fingertips over the surface and leaving little trails of ecstatic static in their wake. “First kiss…?” she murmured between soft pecks.
Prowl gripped her hand lightly once in reply, snaking his free hand to brush her waistline. “How did you…?” he questioned.
High Wire smiled against his lips. “I just do,” she chuckled. “You wouldn’t be the first…”
Prowl was about to ask what that was supposed to mean when the two syllables he dreaded hearing when they were paired his a hiss of pain hit his audios-“Grandson…!”
Prowl jerked back from High Wire as if zapped with some kind of painful voltage and was on his feet and barreling for Positron’s room before she could even ask what was wrong. When he turned into the bedroom, she stood and slowly followed, watching the scene play out from the doorway.
“Grandfather, what happened?” Prowl was asking, sitting on the edge of the older mech’s berth. “Are you in pain?”
“Only slightly, Grandson,” Positron answered. “Nothing spark-threatening-just uncomfortable.”
“What happened?” Prowl asked gently.
“My hand started to seize up a little,” Positron confessed, referring to his stiff right servo. “Came on so sudden it surprised me and I dropped my tea.” Even from a distance, the soaking puddle of low grade that permeated the lap of Positron’s blanket was very clear.
Prowl was pulling the blankest off Positron instantaneously. “Grandfather, the tea was hot!” he cried. “Are you okay? Did you get burned?”
“Just a slight scald,” Positron dismissed. “Nothing to fret-“
“Just a scald?” Prowl gently chastised, wrapping the blankets in on themselves to form a bundle, which he handed to High Wire. “If you could just put that in the closet near the washroom and bring another blanket-oh, a-and a basin of cool water and a cloth.”
High Wire pressed her lips into a thin line, but didn’t protest as she left to complete the task. She returned a few clicks later, balancing the basin and cloth on top of the folded blanket nearly identical to the soiled one. She set the folded blankets on the foot of the berth and withdrew again, watching from the door frame.
Prowl dipped the rag into the basin and wrung out the excess, gently helping Positron lie back. Most of the tea had gone directly into his lap, some splashing over onto the berth itself. With the caring affection of a loving family member, and the devoid of embarrassment detachment of a medic, Prowl easily cleaned the tea off of his grandfather’s legs, his face indicating his focus on the task at hand. Positron didn’t seem at all awkward about the process either.
They didn’t speak; Prowl’s only communication with the elder mech was to hold out his hand to pull him into a sitting position and help him turn so that he was perched on the edge of the berth. Working swiftly, Prowl swiped up the tea on the berth with the cloth and helped Positron lie back down. He removed the basin and cloth from the bed and unfolded the blanket, carefully tucking the folds around Positron’s frame. “Are you comfortable this way, Grandfather?” he asked softly.
“I am, Grandson,” Positron replied. “Thank you.”
Prowl leaned down and kissed Positron’s forehead. “Love you, Grandfather,” he said gently.
Positron brushed his lips against Prowl’s forehead in return. “I love you too, Grandson,” he replied sincerely.
Prowl smiled as he straightened his spinal supports and looked over his shoulder. A confused expression tinted his face like a new paint job. “Grandfather, do you know where High Wire went? She was here a click ago…”
“I believe I saw her leave,” Positron answered, drifting into recharge, “not too long ago.”
“Oh, okay,” the youngling replied. He smiled gently at his grandfather before dimming the lights and stepping out of the room, taking the basin of spilled tea and water. He dumped the contents out in the garden and left it and the cloth to dry in the sun before stepping back into the house and going into the main room.
Much to his surprise, the room was empty. His school things were still strewn over the table, but High Wire’s things, and indeed High Wire herself, were gone. A data pad sat on top of his things, which he knelt to read-
Sorry I had to disappear-I forget I had something my mom needed me for tonight, too. Thanks for having me over.
- High Wire
Prowl considered her words. She must have been very late if he had to leave without even saying goodbye.
… Right?
~*~*~*~
That was the last time Prowl spent any time with High Wire. She distanced herself from him at school, sticking close to classmates closer to her own socio-economic status, it seemed. She had gone back to considering him a piece of furniture and hardly spoke to him beyond the barest of bare minimums.
Prowl was worried about what the lack of communication, both verbal and nonverbal. Perhaps he’d offended her-he did touch her waist when they’d kissed. This forward display of his affection was probably a little too forward. Prowl worried over the proper way to apologize for his behavior for stellar cycles.
~*~*~*~
Prowl caught High Wire in the schoolyard after classes were dismissed that afternoon, standing near the gate. “High Wire!” he called, crossing the yard to stand next to her.
High Wire glanced in the direction of her name, and sighed dejectedly as she saw Prowl approach. “Hi,” she said neutrally.
Prowl smiled as he joined her. “Hey, where have you been?” he asked.
“Busy,” High Wire replied smoothly, glancing back to the roadway, waiting for her transport. “Been busy since we’re moving back to Crystal City.”
Prowl reeled. “Y-you’re moving away?” he stammered. “Why?”
“It’s where Daddy’s needed,” she dismissed.
“Well… D-do you want to come visit with me again? Today?” Prowl offered.
“No, thank you,” she denied tartly.
“Is something wrong?” Prowl asked, catching her tone.
“I can’t visit with you, Prowl,” High Wire replied shortly.
“Why?” he questioned. “Is this because of the way I touched your waist when we kissed-“
“It’s not that, Prowl,” High Wire sighed. “It was… It’s about your grandpa.”
“Did Grandfather offend you?” Prowl asked softly.
“Prowl, you have to spend so much time with him,” she sighed. “I hardly spent any time with you.”
“I… I can’t help it,” Prowl said softly. “Grandfather needs me to take care of him.”
“Haven’t you ever just gone home and done what you wanted?” she questioned, watching the road once more. “Haven’t you ever gone home and sat and not made tea and care for someone who’s supposed to be taking care of you?”
“I… I can’t recall ever doing so,” Prowl confessed. “I was either too young to care for him fully on my own, or I’ve… I’ve always done this. It’s part of my function now.”
“And I can’t handle someone who can’t even be bothered to be with me,” High Wire dismissed. “We’re better off calling it quits before anything else happens.”
“I-I can’t,” Prowl whispered. “I really, really like you, High Wire… I love you.” It wasn’t how he wanted to say it, but it was too late now.
High Wire paused, considering Prowl’s words. If she was surprised by this announcement, she didn’t let it show. She turned and gave him a sympathetic smile. “I like you too, Prowl,” she replied, patting his hand. “I just… I just don’t love you, and I definitely don’t love having to share you with someone you shouldn’t even be caring for.” She brushed her fingers over the back of his hand again as her transport arrived, and she joined several other students in getting on and leaving Prowl in a cloud of dust.
He stood, stiff and rather slack jawed, as the transport rumbled down the road. She… she… Prowl couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge his swift rejection. Tears welled up in his optics and as they spilled over onto his cheeks, he ran blindly toward home, past the ever-growing cemetery and past the temple without giving his regards to the statue of Primus, and up the path to home.
The closed door stopped his momentum; Prowl’s hands shook as he jerked the door open and ran inside, slamming the door behind him and throwing his bag to the ground. Choking back an emotionally wounded sob, the dark youngling ran past the heating stove and kitchen, through the hall and into his room, slamming the door shut behind him and collapsing onto his bed. “Primus, end me now,” he moaned into his pillow. “If I can’t have her, put out my wretched spark now!” So he had taken the time to read the poems he had been assigned.
“Grandson?” Positron asked from the other side of the closed door. “Are you okay?”
“Leave me alone,” Prowl moaned.
“Grandson, what’s the matter?” Positron asked softly. “Are you ill?”
“Kinda,” Prowl muttered.
“Grandson, may I come in?” the elder Autobot asked through the door.
“Just leave me alone!” the youngling snapped. “Just leave me alone to offline and make everyone happier!”
There was a brief pause on the other side of the door. “Grandson, who would say such a thing to you, that we would be happier without you?”
“Just leave me alone!” Prowl cried, burying his face in his pillow.
“I will do no such thing, Prowl,” Positron replied, letting himself in. He limped over to the berth and sat down, patting Prowl’s back. “What troubles you, Grandson?”
“Nothing,” Prowl mumbled into the pillow.
“Ahh, I see,” Positron replied with a nod. “Then you will always be bursting into the house and running and raising a ruckus like a military exercise?”
“No…” he pouted.
“Then what troubles you, Grandson?” Positron questioned.
“…High Wire pushed me away,” Prowl confessed.
Positron paused for a moment. “I beg your pardon, Grandson?” he asked.
Prowl flipped over and sat up, tears sliding down his cheeks as he cried, “High Wire is moving back to Crystal City and when I said that I loved her, she didn’t love me back!”
Positron propped his cane against the edge of the berth and held his arms out to his distraught grandson. Prowl easily nestled into his embrace, quietly weeping and bemoaning his fate as he allowed Positron to rock him. “So you have suffered your first spark-break, hmm?” Positron asked softly.
Prowl nodded. “I didn’t like it,” he whispered.
“I know you didn’t, Grandson,” Positron consoled. “This pain will pass, I promise.”
“Why didn’t she love me, Grandfather?” Prowl mumbled.
“I don’t know, Grandson,” Positron softly confessed.
“Guess you were right,” Prowl said softly, swiping at his visor. “She wasn’t right for me…”
“Love is like that, you’ll find,” Positron consoled. “Sometimes one must go through much trial and error before finding their sparkmate.”
“Did you? Before you found Grandmother?” Prowl questioned.
No. “I did.”
The white lie seemed to make Prowl feel better, and over time, he did calm down. Violent emotion never suited you, Grandson, Positron mused as he hugged Prowl’s shoulders.